


I Used to be Like You, You Know

by moodymarshmallow



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Hedonism, M/M, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodymarshmallow/pseuds/moodymarshmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Vael was never a saint, and few in Starkhaven would refuse his advances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Used to be Like You, You Know

He had been shy, nervous, but not reluctant, even though he claimed to have never bedded another man. There was even a young lady who he favored, one he was saving his affections for, but it took little convincing to urge him to his feet and lead him to the private rooms reserved for the Vaels.

But there was no doubt that he would—who says no to a prince?

The young man twitched when Sebastian carded his fingers through his golden hair, then apologized with a mouth full of urgent desperation.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Sebastian said, and he pressed his lips tenderly to his temple. He calmed enough to sink back onto the bed, sitting primly, casting an uncertain gaze with his wide, grey eyes. It was those eyes that drew Sebastian, the pretty silver catching his attention from the nobles’ box where he idled with drink and cards and the boring companionship of stodgy old men.

He sat beside him to stroke his cheek, thinking it was soft for a commoner, suspecting him to be son of a merchant, rather than a farmer. He cupped his chin and brushed his thumb over his lower lip.

"On your knees," he said, quiet but stern, and new heat flooded to his half hard cock in a rush when he obeyed without question.

"There’s a good lad." He smirked to hide a grin as he unlaced his trousers. "Tongue over your teeth," he said, in case the man’s claims of purity were true—they often weren’t, but even hazy from a night of good wine, Sebastian understood the value of prudence.

Worry proved unnecessary. Though he hesitated, the young man easily took his cock into his mouth, his tongue planted firmly over his bottom teeth, hot and slick against the underside of Sebastian’s cock. He stroked his cheek again, coaxing his chin up and chuckling when he screwed shut his eyes.

"Look at me," he said, and he did, a ruddy flush spreading over his cheeks. He held Sebastian’s gaze while sliding his head forward, taking a good portion of his length deep into his mouth, then drawing back his head to press the flat of his tongue to the swollen head. Sebastian rested his head on the back of the man’s head, fingers loosely gripping his hair, then closed his eyes, drifting into a haze of heat and wine and the throbbing of his blood in his ears.

Before he spent, he pulled him back onto the bed, pressing a suggestion against his ear along with his lips. He hesitated again, and Sebastian bit down on his earlobe and tugged, then ran his tongue lightly over the red skin.

In moments, the man was underneath him, naked, legs spread, chewing on his lower lip and squirming to the side when Sebastian’s fingers slid inside him. His cock was hard, resting heavy on his soft stomach, and a sort of haughty vindication filled Sebastian to his core. It was one thing to take an offered opportunity, quite another to enjoy it. He kissed his neck, a little fond of the handsome youth then, and with one hand guiding his cock into him, he met his lips, catching his groan in his mouth, muffling him with his tongue as he pushed his cock inside.

He was tense, and Sebastian could barely move his hips without him clamping down and writhing, so he slid an arm under his neck and cradling his head close, supplicating, coaxing him into relaxing enough to let him move. When he could, he dispensed with tenderness, moving from cuddling his head close to holding his arms over it, rocking into him slowly until the tense pressure released enough for him to thrust hard. Under him, the young man writhed, his jaw slack while he gasped, small, poorly muffled groans escaping every time Sebastian buried his cock deep enough that he could push forward no further, his body weight crushing the young man’s knees to his chest.

A rush of eager ideas poured through Sebastian as he fucked him. He considered taking him home, if only to see the scandalized looks he’d receive. He considered finding the lass he was sweet on and fucking him in front of her, or maybe just having them both—that was particularly appealing. He considered taking him to the brothel, one of his favorites, of course, and hiring a few of the men to pass the lovely lad around, to see what it took to bring him to his knees, begging for more or for mercy—either one would be nice.

That’s when he spent, still holding him down, only now noticing that his legs were wrapped around his slim waist and his stomach was slick and wet. His lover, temporary though he was, clutched to him as he felt himself empty out with every twitch, every throb, every tense and release of his balls, until he was entirely drained.

He laid atop the man for a minute, his face in the pillow, staying deep inside until his cock started to soften.

It wasn’t fun anymore.

Sebastian dressed in silence, and from his jacket pocket he produced a handkerchief, his initials monogrammed in gold thread on the corner. He tossed it onto the young man, a sort of annoyance creeping into him at the sight of him, sweaty and red, semen pooled on his stomach. Near the vanity across the room there was a liquor cabinet, and once he had his trousers on he went to it, crouching and digging around for his brandy. It was gone, but there was wine, and he took the bottle, uncorking it with his teeth.

He almost jolted at feeling the hand on his shoulder, but instead turned slowly to see the young man standing behind him, haphazardly dressed, his hair mussed from his writhing. Sebastian stroked it, brushing it down with his fingertips. Nobody would be surprised that he’d bedded him, but he could at least leave without looking as though he’d stumbled out of a whorehouse.

“That was,” the man began, then swallowed hard, his gaze faltering.

“Yes?”

“If you ever want to see me again,” he said, still nervous, but now bold. “My family owns the mill and the bakery. I am…I am often there.”

“Are you?” Sebastian asked. “Then perhaps I’ll come by.”

A smile lit on the young man’s face, and a sick grip twisted Sebastian’s stomach. He faked a smile as he left, putting the bottle to his lips as soon as he was gone.

He didn’t know his name.

It didn’t matter.


End file.
